


Holiday

by anoyo



Category: Gundam 00
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-06
Updated: 2008-12-06
Packaged: 2017-10-03 05:41:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anoyo/pseuds/anoyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lockon tries to manhandle Tieria into the Christmas spirit.  Series one canon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holiday

**Author's Note:**

> Day six of the 25 Days of Christmas. One of the later-asked-for prompts, but, humorously, the first one I wrote! I wrote fluff, man. The prompt begged for it, and after what I'd written before it, I needed to write fluff. Needed to write it a lot. I liked this piece, though. ^_^ Beta'd by [Zanzou](http://zanzou-chan.liveournal.com). Written for [Rays_Of_eos](http://rays-of-eos.livejournal.com), for her prompt: Lockon/Tieria, Lockon tries to get grumpy, scrooge-ish Tieria into the Christmas spirit. Originally posted [here](http://anoyo.livejournal.com/129713.html).

Christmas on the Ptolemaios was, like most things on the Ptolemaios, a horribly serious affair, overwhelmed by the tremendous feeling of epic destiny. Epic destiny and, of course, tinsel.

Some poor, kind soul -- Lockon rather thought Sumeragi and Allelujah might have come up with it while drinking -- had decided that each of the Meisters' quarters should be decorated in tinsel the color of their suits. Green, blue, and gold were all perfectly normal Christmas colors, and thus fairly simple to come by during the holidays, but apparently "purple tinsel" was not something one could come by at outposts for terrorists. Making the best of it, or best use of their inebriation, some silver tinsel had been colored in magic marker to hang, limp and odorous, outside Tieria's bunk.

And inside Tieria's bunk. And the walkway to Virtue. And, if Tieria's unintelligible exclamation of rage was anything to go by, inside Virtue.

It was, needless to say, not the best way to start off December 23rd.

Well, Lockon figured if his Irish, and thus obviously Catholic, upbringing could have any benefit to The Cause -- other than the obvious motivation for killing people part -- it would have to be in instilling the crew and pilots with proper Christmas spirit. Or, well, enough decorations that didn't cause their viewer to fail piss tests to make up for the lost ground that poor soul had started on.

First stop: a Christmas tree, and better decorations. The only one that would have been Tieria, and he was currently preoccupied with removing and fumigating Virtue. Likewise, when he returned to the Ptolemaios, Tieria was too busy berating Sumeragi and Allelujah -- his guesses on the tinsel culprits had been, of course, correct -- about their alcoholism making them unfit to hold positions of authority that he didn't notice Lockon hauling in a large pine tree and eight boxes of ornaments.

It probably helped that, when Tieria turned to see him enter, Lockon had asked, as if confused, "What's that smell?" thus setting the smaller Meister off again on his verbal rampage. Lockon figured that the scathing looks Allelujah and Sumeragi were shooting him would be nullified if his Great and Epic Plan was successful, and so ignored them, bringing in his shopping uninterrupted.

He spent the rest of the evening setting up the Christmas tree and decorations, keeping his fellows well occupied in their exceptionally loud and communal ruminations with a few well-placed comments and recruiting the fairly confused Setsuna to his decorative cause. By the time he had completed his set-up and sent Setsuna off with a box of candy canes to hand out, it was well past midnight, and officially Christmas Eve.

Lockon was an expeditious fellow, and had bought all his Christmas presents well in advance during landside trips, had wrapped them all before Thanksgiving, and stacked them neatly in his remarkably unused closet for safe-keeping. Now that it was Christmas Eve, and there was a conveniently placed tree in the main leisure bay -- the ship's least traversed area -- he and Haro moved the gifts, package by package, to comfortable places under the tree. This task done, he decided it was far past his bedtime, and hit the hay, grinning foolishly and wondering just who would find the tree first.

When Lockon awoke, it was without the assistance of an alarm, and feeling fully refreshed: precisely what Christmas should be like, and hopefully what it would be like. It didn't take him long to make the trip to the leisure bay, nor did it take his eyes to spot what hadn't been there before: other gifts.

Aside from Lockon's perfunctory shiny silver wrapping paper, there was Christmas tree wrapping paper, reindeer wrapping paper, and a strange paper covered in Christmas confections. The small, clunky bundles of brown-bag-paper Lockon assumed were Setsuna's attempt, however strange the Kurdish boy's link to Christmas might be, and the beautifully fluffed bags were a sure sign of Feldt or Chris, both of whom had never been very good at wrapping anything.

Quick checks at tags revealed most of his suspicions made clear: Sumeragi, Allelujah, Lichty, Feldt, Chris, and Setsuna had all put out presents, and several neat stacks of cards showed evidence of the older crew members manifest holiday spirit.

Really, the only person missing was the person most predictably likely to be missing: Tieria. Now, there were any number of reasons for this, such as not knowing about the holiday, not thinking the holiday to be worthy of his time, being scarred for life by high-inducing purple tinsel, tinsel in general. Lockon rather figured that the most likely reason was a combination of all of the above, and recognized it as his Catholic, and boisterous, duty to instill in the smaller, feminine-color-loving Meister an appropriate Christmas spirit (though not an overwhelming Christmas spirit, because if Tieria went at Christmas like he went at everything else, the holiday would never be the same again).

And, of course, it coincided with his Great and Epic Plan.

Finding Tieria, predictably, creature of virtue and habit and all that, picking tinsel out of his ventilation system and looking potentially off-his-game momentarily, Lockon readied himself for the pounce.

"Tieria!" he exclaimed, swinging through the doorway with enough energy to imply that he hadn't been grinning evilly there for a few minutes, oh no, and he was truly excited. "I've got a job for you! There's something strange going on in the ship. A sort of, I don't know, vandalism."

Tieria blinked up at Lockon from where he was at his vents, taking a large breath from a direction that was not, in fact, those vents, before replying, "What on earth are you talking about?"

Lockon smirked, though managed to turn it into an appropriate puppy-dog face before Tieria could become suspicious. "Just come have a look, okay? You look like you could do with some non-fatal air, anyway."

The response to his quip was about as expected, a surly and yet resigned look, but Tieria did agree to follow him, keeping silent pace the short walk to the leisure bay. Upon arriving in the bay, Lockon almost laughed at the scathing look he received.

Tieria started, "I fail to see how this is humorous, as even I will allow liberties for cultural celebrations. A Christmas tree is not vandalism." He rolled his eyes and turned to leave. "I do, however, expect it to be removed by the thirtieth."

"Not that," Lockon said easily, waving a hand in front of his face. "I put up the tree. I meant under the tree, Tieria."

"The gifts?" Tieria's eyes were puzzled, staring at the arrangement of gifts under the tree. "I rather doubt those are vandalism, and if you put up the tree, what precisely in your aim in making me check it?"

"Well, I put up the tree, and all the shiny, silver gifts are from me, but see all those other gifts? They're not from me. Each kind of wrapping paper is actually a different person leaving gifts under my tree." He smiled. "And I only said it was sort of vandalism." He pursed his lips. "I did lie about it being strange, though."

His words had done the trick: Tieria's eyes lingered over the presents, visibly calculating the number of different papers, and their indicators of the number of people leaving things under the tree. Tieria even smirked when his eyes came to rest on the poorly wrapped paper parcels.

Continuing, Lockon said, "And if you check behind that big, reindeer-covered box, there are a few stacks of cards, the handwriting on which accounts for all the rest of the ship's crew not represented by a particular paper." He coughed, feigning politeness. "Or, rather, all the crew excepting yourself." Knowing Tieria's eyes were not on him, he let a smile creep across his face. "That's where the vandalism comes into play: what on earth could have happened to whatever you got for us, Tieria?"

It took Lockon's best effort not to laugh in the following silence, a silence made up of infuriation, confusion, and a surprising deal of embarrassment. Laughing, however, would have ruined his Great and Epic Plan, and Tieria was just where Lockon wanted him.

Finally, Tieria managed, "I did not purchase Christmas gifts. I did not see a purpose in doing so, nor has my opinion on that changed in light of your insulting insinuations." He had apparently chosen "infuriation" as the emotion he was supposed to be portraying, and was portraying it well, in a chilly fashion.

"Insulting? Me? I was just wondering if someone might have run off with them," Lockon said innocently, unable to wipe the smile off his face. Luckily, Tieria was still eyeing the tree, like it had done him a personal injustice (and, well, maybe it had; Lockon had managed to find real purple tinsel), and did not notice.

"That is not the case," Tieria said stiffly, pushing his glasses up his nose, a sure sign that he was going to turn around and glare. Lockon stifled his smile, and just in time, too, for Tieria to indeed turn around and glare. So reliable. Also, his ability to perfectly pivot. Lockon found that this time, he was unable to hide the smile that grew.

The jig was up.

Tieria's eyes narrowed from their fake glare into a truly irritated and puzzled stare, and his eyebrows furrowed. "What are you smiling at?" he asked, snapping out his words.

"You," Lockon answered honestly, grinning. "So wonderfully predictable." He cleared his throat, though was unable to stop grinning. "As is requisite of all evildoers, let me now explain to you my nefarious plot," he said, giving his voice a melodramatic lilt. This speech was the rising action to his Great and Epic Plan, and must be presented perfectly.

"Through no fault of their own, as alcohol can be clearly defined as the culprit, Sumeragi and Allelujah managed to start this Christmas holiday off on the wrong foot. The unstated plan of action, so to speak, was a mellow and comfortable exchange of gifts on the day itself, either by hand or by foot of bed." Lockon put up a hand to stop whatever it was that Tieria was opening his mouth to say, answering, "No one was particularly assuming you would participate," whether or not his words truly answered what it was Tieria would have said. His psychic powers, however, had not yet failed him.

"Unfortunately, Sumeragi and Allelujah's 'whoops' managed to not only leave you out of our holiday plans, but put you significantly against them. And I don't really blame you, so it's stated; I probably would have been pissed if I woke up to high-inducing and poorly colored tinsel over my head. Also, I'm aware of how long it takes to fumigate a cockpit." Lockon nodded sagely at this statement of his own, offering no further details.

"As is my sworn duty as a Catholic Irishman, I decided to take Christmas spirit into my own hands, and redecorate, so to speak. Tasteful Christmas decorations are as we speak littered deliberately throughout the ship. My own work, of course. Now, I reached a dilemma in fixing Christmas in you particularly, Tieria. You weren't participating to begin with, but you were the one most affronted by Sumeragi and Allelujah's drunken debauchery. The goal of this, to that end, had to be you managing to enjoy Christmas, or at least get keelhauled by Christmas spirit. In a manner that doesn't involve vicarious blood-alcohol levels. So I created my Great and Epic Plan to make you participate in Christmas somehow, and you have worked greatly along with my machinations."

Epic Speech delivered, rising action coming to a climax, Lockon took three steps forward and crossed his arms, grinning down at Tieria from well within the scowl zone.

To the further testament of his psychic prowess, Tieria did not take a step back, nor did he insist on shoving Lockon out of said scowl zone. Rather, he stood up to the presented challenge admirably. "I do not see where your conclusions gather," Tieria said dryly, continuing to scowl. "While your Christmas spirit has me absolutely exasperated, I fail to see where I have joined in or been keelhauled, as you said." His scowl deepened. "Of course, this is what you want me to say, in your insane holiday script. I have humored you."

Lockon let himself laugh now, uncrossing his arms and putting them on his hips to catch his laughter. "And here I thought I was being so sneaky," he said, smiling.

"The ridiculously textbook vocabulary gave you away," Tieria deadpanned, still scowling, still waiting.

Waiting until the laughter subsided, Lockon finally answered, "Well, I tricked you, obviously. You weren't going to have any Christmas spirit on your own, and I was pretty sure hell would freeze over before I talked you into going landside with me to buy presents." He shrugged elegantly, still smirking. "So I decided you wouldn't have any choice in participating, and in giving at least me a gift."

"You bought yourself a gift?" Tieria stopped scowling at this, and instead blinked myopically at Lockon, as though he was obviously not seeing him correctly in this insanity.

"Well," Lockon said, "sort of. I wasn't really very creative about it, I mean, it's the gag you see in pretty much every Christmas story ever, but who cares?" He gestured upwards. "That's how you followed along with my Great and Epic Plan," he said, smiling. "You stood exactly where I thought you would, and pivoted exactly like I thought you would to glare at me. I mean, I have no idea what it says about me that I can predict that, but I'm really going to chalk it up to psychic powers and then leave it the hell alone."

Tieria, through this miniature and mildly pointless rant, had been staring at precisely the cliché and boring gag Lockon had insinuated was waiting above his head. "Well," he said, unknowingly parroting what Lockon had said not long before.

"Mistletoe," Lockon confirmed gravely. "Whether you want to or not, the gods of Christmas say you owe me a kiss."

Before Tieria could fully process this statement, coming to rest confusedly on the fact that Christmas only had one god, and wasn't he Lockon's god?, Lockon had foreseen the jump backward Tieria would have decided on taking and wrapped an arm securely around Tieria's waist. He pulled the smaller man against him, and leaned down to kiss Tieria squarely on the mouth, preempting any possible argument through sheer blindsiding tactics.

When he released the younger man, it was merely to lean backwards slightly and proclaim, "Merry Christmas Eve!" with an addendum of, "Just wait for Christmas!" before leaning down to effectively keep Tieria's mouth from giving him the verbal lashing he really hoped the younger man was too breathless to give.

He also really hoped you couldn't get contact highs through kissing.


End file.
